I, Slender
by InkTank
Summary: A tall, lanky creature wanders the forest, seeking memories of his past. After being isolated for five years he befriends a young girl, the first to ever face him without fear. But his happiness is short lived. A dark force that's been haunting him since he can remember begins to fully surface. He must now fight to discover what he was, what he is, and what he must do to save her.


I look up at the sky. The cloudy haze above only seems to further darken the ground below, which is enveloped in fog. I don't know how I got here. I don't remember anything before waking up in this forest. All I know is that I'm alone. And no one's coming to find me.

At least, no one who wants to help me.

I sighed. Sitting up on the tree branch I had been lounging on, I glanced over to my right and made out the familiar shapes all around me. The old, tall trees. The big, moss-covered boulders. The dead grass and leaves on the ground. There wasn't even an animal. Not a squirrel, not an owl, not a wolf. Nothing. Just me, the empty countryside road about a half of a mile away, and the darkness. Even the moon was hiding tonight. Hiding behind it's friends, the thick, stormy clouds. Hiding from me.

Everything hides from me.

Suddenly a flash of light glimmered across the base of the tree trunks. I turned my head quickly. Headlights. Someone's heading down the road. I stand on my branch and watch, expecting the lights to pass by and continue down the road. But instead, they stop.

My heart jumped a bit. This was my chance. Or, it might be, if it didn't work out like all the other attempts. Maybe this time, someone in that car would help me. It was unlikely, but I had to try.

I made my way down the tree, and slowly crept towards them. As I got closer, I could hear the sound of male voices- teenagers, or young adults, judging by the sound- and they were loud, joking with each other in excited tones. They climbed out of the old, blue truck (which was rusting and looked like it probably belonged to one of their grandfathers), and began grabbing items out of the bed in the back. They were here for something. To find something.

They flung backpacks over their shoulders and handed each other flashlights. As I inched closer, I could hear them more clearly.

"And what if we find him? Then what?"

"Then take a picture and get the hell out of there, stupid."

"You're all a bunch of wusses. I'll shoot that abomination right in the head as soon as I see him. We'll bring his body back to town, and we'll be famous."

I winced at this. Moments later, they began trekking into the woods, making fun of each other for being scared as they hiked up the hill and began shining their flashlights across the trees and into the depths of the forest. They were still a good twenty feet away from me, so I stood still, ducking behind a tree and managing to avoid catching their attention. I knew I needed to keep clear of them. At least, the one with the gun. Maybe the others could be persuaded to help me. I needed to get them to separate.

Luckily enough, the young man with the gun suggested it for me. The other two were frightened by the idea, but the first man's ridicule got the better of them. The one with the gun went off by himself, and the other two began walking in the opposite direction, towards me.

Perfect.

I hid behind another, somewhat thicker tree until they walked past me. I wanted them to relax a little before I made myself visible. They were obviously very frightened, and I didn't want to scare them any more. I silently followed them for a mile or so, hoping they'd start relaxing after a bit. But they didn't. Instead, they just began to get worse. They started coughing too, quite intensely. They became more and more afraid, passing rumors of the danger of the forest back and forth. I became enveloped in what they had to say. All the things they whispered to each other in fear... such incredible fear. Things about a tall, skinny man, who wore a suit. They described him as having disturbingly long arms that were horrifyingly unnatural. They spoke of his tentacles, razor sharp and fast as lightening, ready to disembowel anyone who crossed his path. And the face. Or, lack of a face. Horrifying. Disgusting. A nightmare. They spoke terrible things about this terrible creature that they feared accidentally stumbling upon. Their joking had ceased a long time ago. Now they only shook, waving their flashlights frantically at every little noise they thought they heard.

This was when I, being so transfixed by their stories of horror, accidentally stepped on a twig, snapping it beneath my weight. It echoed through the otherwise nearly silent forest, and within a split second two beams of light were on me. I stood there, surprised, my mind still a bit lost in the conversation the two had been having seconds before. I heard screaming, and pounding footsteps, and as I snapped back to reality I realized that the two young men were running back to the truck. Not wanting to lose my chance, I quickly dashed along as well, hoping and praying that I'd reach the truck before they got there, which I did.

They saw me standing in front of their vehicle, and froze. I stood before them, unsure of exactly what to do. I wanted to speak to them. I wanted to ask them to help me. Or at least to tell them not be afraid. This place wasn't as spooky as it seemed. I stood still, trying my best to look gentle. It didn't seem to help, however. The two young men just stood there, petrified. Finally, I took a step towards them, hoping they might follow suit. But instead they turned tail and ran, screaming for their friend with the gun. They were going to try to kill me.

Not wanting to face the man with the gun, I waited till the other two had run off into the distance, and slipped back into the forest. This obviously wasn't going to work. Just like it hadn't the first time. Or the second time. Or the fifty-eighth time. I scaled up the nearest tree, and waited for them to come back. Eventually they did, all three of them. The two I'd met shouted for the third man to be careful, and the third man laughed at them and made fun of them for letting their imaginations get the best of them. They got into the truck, pulled back onto the road, and left.

I watched the light from the vehicle disappear into the distance. The words of the two young men had returned to my mind. I remembered their fear. They had even begun to fall ill. I thought it must have been from the stress of being so afraid. I didn't know what else could've caused it. I've never gotten sick while in this forest. I'd been there for five years, and I've always stayed perfectly healthy.

My thoughts strayed back to the words of the men once more. Terrifying, horrifying, disturbing... an abomination. Is that what they thought of me?

My heart sank, and once again, I returned my focus to the loneliness of the forest around me. The moon had finally peaked out from behind the clouds. She (as the people of the nearby town seemed to think of the moon as a she, I supposed I would do so as well) gazed down at me with her gentle light, as if to say, "don't worry. It'll work out next time."

I liked the moon. It was sweet. It was gentle. It looked pure and wise. And it illuminated the forest, making the darkness shrink back a bit and reminding me of the natural beauty of the place. I noticed a few lightning bugs flittering here and there. I liked to think of them as her children. Stars that hadn't been caught up in the sky, but were instead sent to earth, to guide lost souls, not unlike myself.

I sighed, laying down on the branch and staring up at the moon once more. I could've sworn she was looking back at me. I felt she was trying to comfort me. She too, was stuck in the forest, watching the world around her go by without her. She couldn't speak. She had no mouth to speak with. No face whatsoever, actually. But I didn't mind that. It made me feel better actually.

I'd been living alone in the forest for the past five years. I don't know how I got here. I don't know what I did before I got here. I don't know who I was... or what I was. I can't even remember my own name. Many people had tried to give me names, though they were always very unusual. For the first few years, I would get pretty upset about it. But after a while, they all became familiar. Nowadays, I just let them call me whatever they want. They're very creative. They've come up with many names, some even in other languages. But the one that seems to have caught on the most is the one I ended up choosing for myself. And that name is Slenderman.


End file.
